


Sweet Candy Memories

by Silvamoon



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Candy Shop, Fluff, Gen, Keithmonth2018, keith has a sweet tooth, mentions of keith's dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 18:11:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16310183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvamoon/pseuds/Silvamoon
Summary: In which Keith decides to get a job at a Candy Shop to help satisfy his sweet tooth and engages in some childhood reminiscing.Written for Keithmonth2018 Day 15: Sweet Tooth Prompt





	Sweet Candy Memories

**Author's Note:**

> My second fic! Even though it's short, I had fun with this one. Written for Keithmonth2018 Day 15.  
> Lots of thanks again to [Pterodotyl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pterodotyl/pseuds/Pterodotyl) for being a super helpful Beta!

Living the typical broke college student life turned out to be more of a pain than expected. The tuition could be covered easily enough with loans and grants, but did nothing for an empty stomach. So, one thing was clear, Keith needed a job. That’s how he found himself outside a sweet shop at the mall, looking at a ‘help wanted’ sign. The store had a colorful display of famous candies from all over the world. The thought of being able to even try half of them, in addition to earning an income…

“I’m going in,” he announced to no one and stepped through the doors.

The inside was large, but the merchandise took up so much space that it looked much smaller. It would only take one well-placed nudge to send a tower of treats down on an unsuspecting shopper. The store looked empty, save for an orange-haired man that turned when Keith approached.

“Welcome to Coran’s  _ Craaaazy _ Candies,” the man exclaimed jubilantly, “where the only thing sweeter than our items is our service! I am  Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton-Smythe, owner and fellow worker of this shop; but you may call me Coran, Coran the candy man. How can I help you?”

Keith took a reflexive step back. “...I want a job.”

“Oh! Come in, come in. Yes, our last worker left unexpectedly.” He started to walk, motioning Keith to follow. “Usually I like proper notice, but these sorts of things do happen.”

They reached a small back office. The furnishings were sparse; a desk and chairs, file cabinets, and a giant portrait of Coran dressed as some type of space ranger.

“Now, my boy. Just a few questions, a simple formality before you’re hired.” 

“Yeah.” Keith nodded. Apparently the shop was desperate.

“That’s the spirit!” Coran beamed “Question one, what’s your favorite candy?”

“All of them,” he said without hesitating. “Chocolate if I have to pick.”

“Hmm...” Coran stroked his mustache. “I see you managed to dodge that little trick I put in there. Next, why do you want to work here?”

“Money, and candy access.”

“Haha! Honesty, I like it. Last question, are you involved in any... _ you know. _ ” Coran winked broadly, proceeding to contort his face into all sorts of exaggerated expressions.

“What–” Keith had no idea what to make of it. He watched with a hand ready by his phone in case the poor man fell over and needed an ambulance.

“You know…” Coran propped himself up on the desk with a  _ smack.  _ He glanced around conspiratorially before leaning in to whisper, “... _ drugs. _ ”

Why didn’t he just say that in the first place. “No, I’m not into any of that.”

“Right! I think we’re all set then. Fill out these forms here and you’re free to start as soon as you’re available. Uh...” He scratched the side of his face “In all my excitement, I never did get your name.”

“Keith,” he replied, starting on the paperwork.

“Alright, Keith. Good to have you onboard.”

After that, it was a simple task of going over pay, available hours, and of course benefits. Coran informed that he was entitled to free samples, ‘ _ Just one each,’ _ and an employee discount of 20% off. Keith thought it all sounded good. It shouldn’t consist of anything he couldn’t handle. He would start tomorrow.

Keith arrived a little after the shop opened the next morning. He could work, then go to his evening classes. In addition, it was quiet...with Coran as the only person present.

“Good morning, Keith!” Coran greeted with enthusiasm. “You’re right on time. Now, any questions before you get started?”

“I’m fine.”

“Of course, of course.” The man gave a pleased smile. “Well if you need me, I’ll be right in my office. Here’s your official uniform. Good luck!” 

Keith put on the simple blue and white striped apron, knotting the strings in back. The morning duties consisted of bringing out new boxes, straightening out items, and setting out trays of samples. He ate a free mini brownie in one bite. The sweetness spread through his mouth, bringing back a vague memory of happier times. He couldn’t stop the small, contented smile, even if he wanted to. He could almost remember… Of course, that’s when a customer came in and ruined it.

“Hey there. The name’s Lance.” The customer leaned on the counter, all smiles and blue eyes and tan skin.

“How can I help you?” Keith asked.

“Yeah, I need licorice, and how about your number?” Lance winked.

Keith rolled his eyes before replying, “No, and down that aisle.”

“How about if I say, I think we were  _ mint _ to be together.” 

“I’d think you were lame, and that you shouldn’t flirt with the employees,” Keith stated firmly.

Lance frowned. “Geez, what crawled up your butt? You’re as sour as a...as a pack of Sour Patch Kids!”

“I’m just doing my job.” He shrugged.

The exchange ended there. With Lance mumbling something and walking off to get the candy. Keith almost expected another remark as the items were rung up, but thankfully it stayed peaceful. 

By the end of the day, he was drained, and it hadn’t even been that bad. There had been a small ‘rush’ of customers shortly after lunch time, but he found a pattern. It was almost like figuring out a battle strategy, and he wasn’t the type to lose a fight. He fell into a routine for the rest of the week: Work, class, home, homework, relaxing, and then bed. He also made sure to purchase small bags of candy almost daily—he figured he earned the reward. Everything was going well, or he thought it was until Coran approached him. It happened on that Friday, after the usual greetings.

“Oh, before you start, I need a moment of your time.”

Keith raised an eyebrow, but nodded. “I have time.”

“Well you see, there’s been some talk. And as you know, we try to maintain a chipper atmosphere here, and-”

Keith cut him off, “Have I done something wrong or not.”

“Oh not at all, my boy.” Coran waved his hands reassuringly. “Just if you could  _ maaaybe  _ adjust your customer presentation. Let me see you try and give a nice, big smile.”

“...” Keith gave a blank look. He would smile when he felt like it, dammit.

“Ah. Not quite. You almost got it.” Coran leaned in close, forcefully pushing Keith’s cheeks upwards. “There!”

Keith swatted the hands away, pouting.

“You know what, we’ll work on it.” Coran didn’t sound deterred at all. “Keep doing your job. Oh! Maybe we can market you as mysterious.”

What the heck had that been about? Keith rubbed his face. Had someone actually filed a complaint? He brushed off the odd encounter and continued as normal. He did his job, packed up, and went home. At one point he thought he caught a glimpse of a familiar mop of brown hair, but it was probably his imagination.

If Keith had thought the previous day’s ‘smile exercise’ had been odd, it was nothing compared to entering the store and seeing Lance behind the counter. Lance who was standing there wearing a wide smile, and the company’s apron. Keith felt half tempted to turn around and leave this weird dream. Even moreso when Lance started talking to him like nothing was wrong.

“What do you think? Blue is definitely more my color.” His grin spread even wider, somehow.

“What are you doing here?” Keith walked over.

“After seeing your attitude the other day, I decided to come in and get a job here. Got to show you how it’s done.”

“Congratulations.”

Lance’s face fell a bit, not expecting that reaction. “I bet you’re scared.”

“Terrified,” he deadpanned.

“See!? That’s the sort of attitude that’ll make you lose.”

“Lose?” What was he talking about?

“In sales, I’ll be wiping the floor with your customers.”

Keith shrugged, still not impressed.

Really? Lance announcing a rivalry in this kind of job? It didn’t make any difference to Keith. They were both still going to get paid the same amount. This could even turn out to be a benefit. With the holidays approaching the flow of customers would steadily increase. And Lance did seem pretty effective, definitely no shortage of the proper employee image, but Keith couldn’t help notice a few obvious flaws… He tried to point it out once, but was shut down before the first word got out—Lance stating not to distract him. The end of the shift came and it was time to check the tallies. 

“Alright, I think I did pretty good. Here’s my total.” Lance gave a confident grin.

“Not bad,” he replied with his own total, which outnumbered Lance’s by a significant margin.

“What! That can’t be right.” Lance looked over the paperwork as if Keith had fudged the numbers. “No way… Well it’s only the first day. I’ll show you.”

That first result set the tone for the week to come, each time following the same pattern. Every day Keith’s total sales trumped Lance’s, and every day Lance would gape like a floundering fish at the results .  Keith never really saw much point in keeping track. The only things that mattered were the timesheets being correct and if he got paid on time. But it wasn’t good for the work environment—it became tense with insults, and if it continued one of them was going to get fired. When Coran came by to announce the potential of Keith earning employee of the month—he had been there the longest, so who else would get it—he thought that was it.

“Okay, mister.” Lance marched over to Keith, coming to stand face-to-face.

“What?” He clenched his jaw.

“Do I have to say it?”

Keith looked puzzled, the tension deflating. “Say what?”

“The sales, of course! How do you do it? Is it the mullet? Is it a secret sales magnet, or something?” 

So that’s what it was. Lance had had enough, but instead of coming to fight, he was actually asking for advice? That was...surprising. Keith wouldn’t waste this chance, and proceeded to tell Lance everything. That he spent too much time with the customers, talking to them while a line of increasingly impatient shoppers remained. It allowed Keith to efficiently take over, and thus increase his total sales. Lance went quiet. He didn’t seem to get upset, or try to deny it, but listened to Keith’s words. As if proof of this, there was a noticeable difference in the rest of the work day. Lance still winked and made his flirty comments, of course, but the chats were much briefer. Even the sales comparisons stopped when the numbers gradually became more evenly matched. Maybe the silly competition wasn’t that important to him after all?

Keith felt the stress ease throughout the week, turning to something that was close to comfortable. At the moment, he was contently eating a Kit-Kat bar while Lance was on break. It was an especially special treat; making him think back to warm autumn nights, a small hand in the larger grip of his father’s, getting piggyback rides when his legs got tired, dad singing to lull him to sleep. He didn’t even notice himself humming along with the tune.

“Woah,” Lance sounded awestruck.

“Huh?” Keith looked up, broken out of his slight daze. Able to see a slight flush on Lance’s face.

“Just. Wow. You can smile.”

“I can’t be happy?” Keith wrinkled his nose.

“No! That’s not-” He took a breath. “I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that content. What were you thinking about?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because it’s rare!” Lance stated the obvious, “I wish I had a camera, it’s like coming across Bigfoot. Plus...I’m kind of curious.”

“I don’t know if I want to share that with my ‘rival’.”

“Okay, I’ll admit it, I was dumb with that. We’re friends now, right?”

Keith considered it. In truth, he didn’t feel the same annoyance levels anymore, and some days found that he looked forward to working. “Yeah, guess we are.”

Lance brightened at that. “Okay. As newfound friends, consider it a part of getting to know you better. If you want to share.”

Share? What could he say, without getting into the whole story? “What if I don’t?”

“That’s cool. We can figure something else out. Both of us have three hours to kill till our shift ends, and it looks like a slow day.”

He had a point…

“They remind me of my dad,” he commented.

“Yeah?” Lance settled in, encouraging him to continue.

“It’s...a good memory.” He decided to stay vague “From when we would go trick-or-treating.”

“Aw, little Keith and dad.” Lance smiled. “They’re your favorite kind then?”

“Yeah. There weren’t a lot of houses in the area, but I would still get a full bucket.”

“Let me guess, dad the candy fairy?”

Keith nodded. “I thought...it was magic, till I caught him.” His mouth gave an amused twitch, never mind that it was the last good memory he had.

Lance chuckled a little, probably trying to imagine it.

“It was dumb,” he admitted.

“What!?” Lance straightened up. “No, no. It’s cute, made me think of my family.”

“Hmm?”

“Yeah. My brothers and sisters would always steal my bucket and hide it on me. Tease me that they would eat it all, till I started to cry. Then they would return it and make me promise not to tell mom.”

“Somehow, I’m not surprised.” Keith gave a warm huff.

“Are you saying I’m dramatic?”

“You were probably president of the drama club.”

“I’ll have you know that I was vice president, and I was awesome.” He put his hands on his hips and they both broke out into a short laugh.

“So do you still get to do things like that with your dad? Not the whole candy thing, but…?”

“He’s...not around anymore.”

“Oh? Oh, damn. Sorry.” Lance pieced it together.

“It’s fine.” Keith clammed up.  
  
The awkward silence drifted in. This is why he should've just kept quiet. He gritted his teeth, focusing on picking up the used candy wrapper, wadding it up before tossing it in the garbage bin. The rest of the area was spotless, he checked and double checked, looking everywhere except towards the only other person in the store. The clock showed that there were still over two more torturous hours to go.

“No, it’s not. Look you don’t have to get into it, unless you want to?”

Keith shook his head.

“Ok. It just does suck,” he commented, which got a sound of agreement.

“How about telling me about him?”

“Like what?” he snapped, not harshly. This was...different than the usual pity.

“Other silly things he did around Halloween? Did he dress up too?”

“Yeah…” The image of dad in full costume sprung to mind, bringing a small smile with it.

“Awesome. What did he pick? I bet it was something super cool.”

“Firefighter.” Come to think of it, had dad ever dressed as anything else?

“Woah.”

“Yeah. Had the outfit from work.”

“That’s like the coolest.” Lance nodded along.

“He was…” Keith trailed off.

Again, his focus started to drift. With nothing better to do, he started to pick at the edges of his gloves.

Lance sensed the bad turn and changed topics. “Oh. What about his favorite candy?”

“Candy corn,” he replied promptly.

“Great choice!” Lance beamed.

“You actually like them?” He looked up, wrinkling his nose.

Lance gave a fake gasp. “Heathen! They’re so good.”

“They’re waxy.”

“But traditional! The taste is pretty good too, and you can stick them to your teeth to make it look like you have fangs.” He did a goofy chomping motion to demonstrate.

“Like a cheap, untasty, Dracula,” Keith commented.

Lance scoffed. “I just can’t believe Mr. Sweet Tooth has a candy he doesn’t like.

They continued debating other candies—Lance’s favorite turned out to be Red Hots, which Keith thought were somehow worse than candy corn. He also learned a little more about Lance’s family, and might have shared a few more details of his own. He hardly realized how much time passed until a random glance at the clock showed that it was time to close. By the time he got home, Keith felt lighter than usual, not what he would have expected given the day’s earlier topic. It was...strange, but now that the whole false rivalry had ended, it was comfortable again. He sat down and rummaged through his bag out of habit, surprised when he felt a familiar shape. He thought he had forgotten to buy anything. Out came a pack of Kit-Kat bars, with a sticky note that read ‘ _Here’s my apology for being a jerk before, or a gift to our friendship status. Take your pick. -Lance.’_

“Idiot.” He chuckled, unwrapping the treat to crunch into the first bar.

The memory was clearer this time. His dad holding out the same snack. He could remember the fine details of his face; the dimples that creased the corners of his eyes, the way those eyes lit up when he smiled. He recalled the warm, sing-song tones of his voice ‘ _A little snack for my Keithy-Kat_.’ before ruffling Keith’s hair, and the deep rumbling tones of his laugh. It was hard to believe that it had been so long since he last heard it.

“I miss you...” he murmured with a sigh, “...but I’m ok.”


End file.
